Wrongly Accused
by merlintriss
Summary: What happens when a 4400 disappears and an innocent man gets convicted for her disappearance. R & R.
1. Chapter 1

**The 4400**

**Wrongly Accused**

Disclaimer--I do not write for, own, or am in any other way affiliated with the 4400, and some of the characters in this story I do not own. Most of the people you do not recognize I created, so I guess I kind of own them. Anyways.

_Flashback_

**Date: April 1, 1974**

_It was a warm day in America's heartland, humid in fact, but in the coming of summer way, where theres a light stickiness that sort of hangs in the air. _

_Denise was taking a walk around town, and it was the middle of the day. It was the age of the flower child, and though she wore her hair long, and her clothes loose, she was not a hippie. Town policy dictated that you weren't a hippie if you lived in middle America, unless you lived somewhere far off, like Idaho. _

_She was eighteen, and normally she would still be in school, finishing up her senior year at the local highschool, but she had just gotten good news, and decided to take Senior skip day early. She had just been accepted into Juliart on a piano scholarship, something that greatly pleased her parents and herself. Ever since she had heard of the school (when she was a little ballerina) she had been interested in going there. No, interested was not a strong enough word. She was infatuated with the school and everything about it. _

_The town was in its high life, and she decided to take a little stroll down to see the small shops on the main road, a two lane passage of cars which only had a 'rush hour' when the carnival came to town. _

_The day ended way to soon, and she had left her car at home when she went for the walk, so decided to instead walk home. It was a long walk, but not a hard one, down long winding streets. Her parents were probably wondering where she was at this hour. She couldn't wait to tell them about Juliart. _

_That was when it came. A giant light from above, that instantly surrounded her. She would've screamed, but couldn't, because she was so frozen, not with fear, but something more akin to terror. And in under a minute, Denise Marshall was gone. _

**Date: July 22, 1977**

_"We're here at Llowell County Courthouse to hear about the finale to the case which has rocked Indiana. Benjamin Daniels is one trial today for what many have called the April Fools Murders, a string of murders and disappearances from 1969 on. Today, the family of one of Daniels most famous victims, Denise Marshall's waits to hear the outcome after three long years of agonized waiting. The Marshall case was the lynchpin in the prosecutions case, because it was the one case with evidence to it. The defendant was seen following Marshall to her home in Greehome, and later seen coming away from the sight she was last seen. The other murders were proven to circumstancial to prosecute. Daniels, who has always proclaimed his innocence in the murders of Denise has not been allowed to come to his own defense, at advice from his coucil, Public Defender Rob McCoy," the reporter, who was standing with a view of the courthouse behind her, pressed her hand to her ear, "Okay, we have just heard the end to this tragic case. Benjamin Daniels, has been convicted of first degree murder in the case of Denise Marshall, and we understand the DA will be seeking life without parole." _

**Abductee: # 2347**

**Name: Denise Marshall**

**Date Taken: April 1, 1974**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I don't own any of the characters. If I did, most likely I wouldn't be writing fanfictions.

Present Day 

It had been only a few days since Denise and the others had returned from who knows where, but it had seemed like ages in this prison of mauve concrete. She had heard from police reports that people where scared, but she didn't understand why. They had come back. Sure, it had been a few years, but they were back, and they were happy, and families could be put back together.

She slumped into her cot, staring at the ceiling again. The free 70's spirit in her wanted to see the sky, the trees, anything remotely natural. People where already talking about resistance, and abilities, and she was just scared. Quarantine scared her. It was like a bad story you used to scare small children at night.

She wondered what her parents had been doing all these years. Her little sister. Mike, the boy she had pined for all those years ago. What did they think when she went missing thirty some years ago. Oh, god, what about Juliart? Would they take her in after all these years. Her fingers could still play, could still play those notes she so longed to hear.

A little girl walked up to her, a little blonde haired girl with a quiet expression on her face and bright blue eyes.

"My names Maia. What's yours?" she asked, looking down at the out of date hippie.

"Oh me, I'm Denise," she didn't know if she wanted to talk right now, with all that was going on, but the girl seemed nice.

"You'll play again," Maia smiled at her disbelief, "And you don't have to worry about your family. I have to worry about mine. They're all dead. You have to worry about someone else." Little Maia smiled and sat down on the cot next to a bewildered Denise.

"How do you know about me?" Denise asked.

"Your fingers, they're moving. I used to play on my mothers piano once, with the little keys, but she's dead, and I've got nowhere to go," Maia said matter-o-factly.

"I'm sure you could go home with me," As soon as she said this, Denise realized how absurd it was. She couldn't support a kid, much less Maia, and she couldn't just take her.

"Its okay, someone will take me," Maia got up, "I have to go. That man over there is going to need a tissue." And with that she walked away.

Denise went back to lying in wait for the guards to finally tell them that they were being let go, being released from quarantine.

Maximum Security Prison 

"Daniels," the guard read out from his clipboard, looking down at the rows of uniformed prisoners at the forty-something man with graying hair and dead eyes. Benjamin Daniels nodded his head without much gusto, and the guard continued the roll. He was being moved to a lighter facility, because of good behavior. Life without parole seemed to have perks after all.

The skinny Mexican next to him had kept staring at him the whole movement over here, and every time Daniels looked at him, he quickly adjusted so that he wasn't directing his gaze anywhere near him.

"Hey," the Mexican said with a soft voice, "You that guy who killed all those girls on like April Fools Day?"

"I'm innocent, you little funny man," he growled back, aware that the guard had turned his attention elsewhere.

"Yeah, yeah, aren't we all," he gave him a good look over, "James Garcia. You want to get out of here anytime soon."

"Would like and will are two completely different things," he growled back, the guard still occupied with a Tyler Milton at the other end.

"I can make it happen friend, and you don't have to do anything," he started.

"Garcia?" the guard called.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognize. The others, they're mine, and I'll fight you for them.

They had been reunited with their families, mothers and fathers holding little number placards and 4400's looking for their matches. It was like a matching game you played with children, except you didn't know if your number was out there.

Denise looked all over, finally seeing an elderly couple with her number, twenty-seven, standing off to the side. At first she didn't recognize them, an old woman with long silver hair, and an elderly balding man, but realization hit her like a ball peen hammer. Her mothers eyes were the same, a little worn, with some wrinkles around the edges, but the same bright blue, and her father still had that upright stature about him and a aura about him that just oozed age and farm work.

"Mom," she called, instantly realizing that they couldn't hear her over the din. However, her mothers head twisted with recognition at the sound of her voice. Suddenly, her father pointed over the crowd, a finger pointed directly at his daughter.

"Denise!" he yelled, a path cleared before him as he fought to her side, "my little girl. We thought you were dead. It's been so long." He wrapped his arms around her.

It felt so good to be home.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Do I look famous in any way that would cause you to believe that I own any of the characters from the show? All the others are mine, and I will fight you with a piece of asparagus for it.

Maximum Security Prison

"Hey Garcia, man, that offer of yours still open. I don't want to stay here for the rest of my life," Daniels said to the skinny Mexican sitting across from him. The Mexican smiled, then looked up from his plate of coagulated mash.

"Okay man, we'll get out of here, like sly men and Alcatraz, we'll get out of here," Garcia grinned, his crooked smile alight with yellow teeth.

Greenhome

Denise sat in her room, placing the purchases from the mall on the bed. Everything was so new for her. The purchases were all new clothes to replace the wardrobe her parents had kept all of these years. Granted, hippie was back in style, but not all the clothes she had. Humongous bellbottoms were not what they used to be. She wasn't so sure about the tiny flares, but anything was better than beige jumpsuits.

She sat on the bed and thought back to quarantine. Maia was still there, though she said she was about to get adopted. For some reason she didn't think she's stay there. She still kept up with Maia, through letters and small phone calls, and she was doing well…for Maia. She loved Maia like a sister, but the child was a little strange.

Her mother called from downstairs. Someone was at the door for her. Which was odd. Because, well, no one was at the door for her on average. Well, not since she had returned. Her mother called her again, wrenching her from her musings.

Denise raced downstairs with the speed of a child, and landed gracefully at the foot of the stairs, her long hair landing on her back.

"Mark?" she gasped. It had to be him, granted, he was quiet a bit older, his hair now tinged with gray and around his eyes were wisps of wrinkles. The high school quarterback she had crushed over was now an _old man._ Granted, if she wasn't a 4400 she would probably be the same.

"My god, Denise, I just had to see if it was true, that you were one of the returnees. I thought that maybe it was just a rumor. I mean _everyone_ thought you were dead. And that man who was convicted for your murder," he paused, looking at the surprised expression on her face, "Wait, you didn't know?"

"Well, someone told me that everyone thought I was dead, but I didn't think anyone had actually gone to jail for it," she was shocked.

"It's okay, I'm sure they're getting the papers processed right now for his release," he looked at her again, "You haven't aged a day."

"Yeah, I hear that's what happens when you disappear mysteriously and reappear in a ball of light some thirty years later," he laughed at her joke, "so, how have you been?"

"Oh, me, well, I graduated from high school, went to a small law school, and am now among the five attorneys in the Greenhome area. I married a few years back, oh yeah, I married Mickey, you remember her don't you?" Denise grimaced in her head. Mickey was the blonde bimbo from years back who used to throw pencils at the back of her head. It was a real friendship from the start to say the least, "Yeah, we've been married for twenty years, and have four kids."

"Well, that's wonderful," she smiled, though truthfully, she wasn't exactly thrilled. Not that she would pursue the man now, he could be her father.

"Well, I have to go, Mickey and the kids will be waiting. I'll try to stop be soon. Maybe I'll bring the kids by," Mark smiled as he walked out the door, "It's been nice seeing you Denise, we missed you here." The door closed, leaving Denise alone with her thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I was a writer for the 4400 I would be reading fanfics, not writing them.

Thanks to my two reviewers, though one of you might have reviewed on accident.

Iamari—you rock

Greenhome:

Denise sat at home on her couch when it happened. Sure she had heard about it, but she was still shocked. It was kind of like discovering for the first time that someone out there loved you, only much more scary.

Her hand had gone through the couch. She wasn't really paying attention, and didn't know exactly what happened when she suddenly felt a fuzzy feeling in her hand. When she looked down she nearly jumped through the ceiling. Her hand had gone through the couch.

How was she going to tell her parents that instead of getting their daughter back, they had gotten a freak?

Prison 

Garcia was a strange man as he soon found out. The little Mexican was not only small, but controlling. It was like being in a bad relationship, and he hated it. For the past week, the little man had told him what to do, and it was starting to freak Daniels out a bit. What was that little man up to?

Daniels, unlike many of his comrades, was innocent. He'd never met the girl he'd been accused of killing. The jury hadn't liked that excuse. Obviously, or else he wouldn't be in here. His lawyer had said something about appeals, and insufficient evidence, but it was all bull. He was in prison for a series of murders he didn't commit, and some dead chick's blood was all over his hands, or something like that. Her parents had visited his trial once and the mother had given some impassioned speech about him stealing away her 'baby.' What in the hell? He hadn't ever seen her 'baby' or killed her.

Garcia was rounding the lunchroom to sit near him. If he kept up like this, his fellow inmates might think he and the little man were a couple. He shivered. He might not have had sex in a long time, but that didn't mean he was that willing to become even situationally gay. He would hold out.

"You ready?" Garcia nearly whispered, and after shivering from a look from the Mexican, he nodded. "We're getting out today, brother."


End file.
